


Wolves

by take_a_ch0nce_on_me



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 10 years of 1D!, AU, Alternate Universe - No One Direction, Based on a One Direction Song, F/M, Forestcore, Mentions of Death, Requited Unrequited Love, but like? when the wolves come in the middle of the night? like a bullet in the dark??, curse fic!, destruction of lemon pastries tw, happy ending!, i wrote this years ago but only just edited it, lots of meaningful glances, non-graphic injury, pls take me back to 2014, shitty epilogue warning, wolves au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:14:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/take_a_ch0nce_on_me/pseuds/take_a_ch0nce_on_me
Summary: in the middle of the night, when the wolves come outShe feels it the moment she wakes.There are birds singing outside, and sunlight streaming through her curtains, but she feels the cold chill that settled into her bones so many years ago. Something is different, though. Something has changed. And with a bit of shock, she realizes her birthday is in 3 days. And she’ll die before she gets there.there’s a curse in the family, but we’re not going down without a fightan AU in which Maggie's cursed and Liam won't let her go
Relationships: Liam Payne/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. Remember how we used to kick around, just wasting time?

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Wolves! I wrote this in 2016 on tumblr, but with the 1D renaissance I was inspired to edit and repost it on AO3! Since it's already written and edited, I'll be posting one chapter every day, including a brand new small epilogue! Feel free to drop by my writing tumblr @take-a-ch0nce-on-me or my main @theprincessamirah! Enjoy <3

She feels it the moment she wakes. 

There are birds singing outside, and sunlight streaming through her curtains, but she feels the cold chill that settled into her bones so many years ago. But on this morning, something is different. Something has changed. And with a bit of a start, she realizes her birthday is in three days. 

And she’ll die before she gets there.

Sighing, Maggie pulls on the lumpy sweater hung over the chair near her bed and slowly makes her way to the bathroom. The chill isn’t just in her bones, it’s in the air, and she can see her breath puff in front of her with every exhale. She sighs again.

A hot shower does nothing to warm her. 

She’s downstairs now, avoiding breakfast with her parents. She knows she should try to spend time with them, but she can’t bear another second of worried looks, and there are still two more days of them ahead of her. Her mother and father exchange troubled glances above her head, but they don’t interfere. They know why she’s quiet. And they know there’s nothing they can do. So her mother just kisses the top of her head and serves her a plate of eggs, and her father sips his coffee and slides the Saturday comics over. 

There’s nothing they can do.

She leaves the table, the room, the house. Her eggs sit on the table, untouched.

She’s out now, roaming the forest. She’s restless, as if she was getting ready to run from her fate, from the curse. As if she ever could. She knows what would happen if she did.

_“And this is your Uncle Jamie. He was the quiet one, but he was a thinker. Always carrying around his little notebook and reading every chance he got.” Her grandmother’s eyes were sparkling, but with tears. Eight-year-old Maggie didn’t understand them. She pointed to the next picture in the photo album._

_“What happened to Uncle Jamie? And Uncle Robin? Where are they?” It didn’t seem fair that they didn’t even visit. It was her birthday, after all._

_“Oh, my little bird.” Suddenly she’s swept into her grandmother’s arms, pressed uncomfortably close to her bosom. “They’re here. You can’t see them, but they watch over us. They’re with you, in your heart, preparing you for the wolves.”_

_“Mother.” Maggie’s father shoots his mother a sharp look, laden with so many emotions. Anger. Sadness. Fear. “We agreed we wouldn’t talk about this.” He crosses the room in two great strides to press his hands to Maggie’s ears, like that could stop the truth from reaching her. “Not until she’s older.”_

_“She needs to know, Ben. You can’t hide her destiny from her—“_

_“I said no. She is my child, and I know what’s best for her. No talk of the wolves until she’s 16.”_

Of course, they couldn’t keep the secret that long. All it took was a couple of beers in her dad and listening at the door of the living room for her to discover the truth. Then it was simply a matter of looking surprised at her 16 th birthday, but she had already known for years not to get her hopes pinned on college or love or a future. All of that had been gone, long before she had even been born. All she had ever known would end in two days, and there was nothing she would do about it.

“Oh, honey.” The waitress pouring coffee, Kathleen, notices Maggie the moment she walks into the diner. She tries not to cringe as everyone in the diner turns to look at her, and their pity makes her sick to her stomach, like she just downed a shot of syrup. Kathleen makes her way to her, arms spread out in a hug. “Happy almost birthday!” She tries to sound cheerful but there’s too much melancholy in her voice to sound halfway happy. “Come on, sit down. I’ve got your favorite table.” She leads Maggie to the corner bar, facing the window. The diner overlooks a cliff, carpeted in forest green pines and jade oaks. Maggie comes for the view, but the coffee is a definite plus. Kathleen pours her a cup, squeezes her shoulder sympathetically, and goes back to topping up everyone’s cups, glancing back to Maggie periodically, as if she might just disappear two days early. Like she’s disappearing right before her eyes.

When Maggie tries to pay for her cup of coffee and lemon scone, Kathleen just shakes her head sadly. She tries to smile again, but it’s worse than a frown. It’s so rueful that Maggie feels bitter just looking at it. So Maggie looks away. She feels Kathleen’s hand on her shoulder again. “On the house.” And as Maggie walks out the diner, she can feel the depressing aura leaving with her, and all those people in the diner were left to mutter about tragic lives and how she’s too young. They’d fuss over it for a bit, but they’d forget after a while. No one likes thinking about sad things. It’s always so much easier to ignore.

**

_“What’s the matter, Payne? Gonna cry?” They knew he wouldn’t, and yet children were taunting Liam again, and he was ignoring them, again. After enough time, they would get bored and leave. Reactions were what they wanted, and he wouldn’t give them any. He just leaned farther over the wooden bird he was carving. They wouldn’t stop until he snapped. So he pushed his anger into each deep, powerful stroke of his knife, shaping the wood bit by bit. Someone’s mother called them for dinner, and they scattered. At last, Liam was alone in his little clearing in the woods. He looked down at the scrap of wood in his hand. It was cracked in half, split by his angry fist. He turned to leave, ready to flee to the forest, and—wait. One person was remained, standing still against the tree line, almost hidden. A girl. The sheriff’s daughter. She gave him a serious look; the only kind anyone had ever seen from her, then turned and disappeared into the trees._

**

She remembered that day too; it had been a lonely one. She had spent the day exploring, building up her shelter several miles from where she lived. Everyday, young Maggie would pack her backpack with supplies that she’d need one day, when she finally moved out to live in her tree house. She had just been coming back to eat dinner when she had seen the congregation of children. She normally wouldn’t have bothered, but something about the stoic expression 10 year-old Liam had on that made her wonder what was happening beneath it. So she waited until they had left, and once she was sure he had seen her, she ran into the trees, to a clearing she knew was only a couple minutes from the village. And sure enough, ten minutes after she arrived, Liam did. She was hiding far up in a tree, to observe him, but he seemed content to wait. She watched him fiddle with a scrap of wood for a couple minutes before slithering down the tree trunk, landing with a soft thud in front of him.

“What do you want?” Liam was suspicious, after all those years of taunting and abuse. Maggie didn’t reply. She only shrugged. “Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?” She shrugs again. “Fine.” Liam plopped back down on the ground, trying to salvage his bird. It was stupid of him to get so angry, to crack it. It wasn’t any good, not with a tear right down the middle. His heart dropped a bit. All those hours of hard work ruined in a moment. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see Maggie, staring intently at the half-formed bird in his hand. 

“Can I see that?” Her voice was much lower than he imagined it would be, not that he imagined her voice. He didn’t stop her though; as she reached down to gently pull the wood from his hand, rough skin against rough skin. 

He watched her carefully as she examined it. Her brow was furrowed, cheeks pink from the brisk air, but her expression was thoughtful. No sign of malice or other intentions, which unnerved him. It wasn’t like the town to try and help him. They mainly left him alone, and he was perfectly happy by himself, with no one else around to disturb the quiet. But that’s what made Maggie so curious. She didn’t try to make conversation, didn’t try to be his friend. And right in that moment, Liam’s stubborn mind decided that they’d be friends, the very closest of friends. And nothing would keep them apart, because Liam always took good care of the things closest to him.

**

If only he knew what was coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this is the part where you're intrigued and leave me a comment? Or possibly hit me up @take-a-ch0nce-on-me?  
> Until next time!


	2. Your friends all talk about me, they say I’ve got no chance at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and onto the second chapter! backstory! family history! awkward silences! it has it all

Her dad sits her down that evening, and asks her what she plans to do. He’s nervous as he asks, clearing his throat and staring at his fingers. Finally, he lifts his head and stares her straight in the eyes.

“Are you going to fight it?”

**

_She knew that he was going to tell the story._

_He had already had 3 beers, and he had that bittersweet glint in his eye. It was finally her chance to know everything about her future. She knew he would tell it._

_So naturally, when she was not-so-discreetly shoved out of the room, she stomped up the stairs to her bedroom. And thirty seconds later, she tiptoed down, treading lightly in her woolen slippers. Even at 11, she knew how to move furtively. Bending down from her tall-for-her-age 5-foot-3 frame, she pressed her ear to the keyhole, and waited. And sure enough, after recounting an old college prank involving donuts, throw pillows, and a bowling team, (which she was much too young to hear anyway), her father’s voice fell to a deeper, more somber pitch as he began to narrate the story of her past and future._

_“It’s been years, but that day…it stays with me.” He coughed dryly. “It’s easy to forget about it. Who has a family curse? It sounds like something from a fairy tale.” There was a long pause, and Maggie tried to picture her dad. Was he taking another swig of beer? Or leaning on her mom for strength? “It’s no fairy tale ending, though.” The bitterness in his voice surprises her._

_“Every generation, the wolves come for the firstborn child, on the night of their 18th birthday. At midnight. Some fought it. Some gave in, and let themselves be taken. Always taken, never killed. At least, not outright.” Here, he sniffled. His voice became gravely._

_“We’d send out search parties, but no one was ever found. The wolves wouldn’t even leave us the bodies. Some…some say that the taken became the wolves.” This time, Maggie could hear her mother’s soft voice comforting her father. “It nearly broke my dad, that his own family could be…” He didn’t finish the sentence._

_“Anyway. The last time the wolves came, they came for my dad. And he had decided that he wouldn’t take it. He decided to fight it. My dad trained for weeks. Mom said he was nearly delirious. ‘I’m not going down,’ he kept saying, ‘I’m not going down. I’m gonna fight.’” There was another long pause. Maggie pressed her ear closer to the door, against the cold metal keyhole._

_“He fought them off. I wasn’t born yet, but I heard the stories. He stood outside, on the porch, waiting for them. And when they finally came, he was vicious; swiping with the spear he sharpened himself. He even shot one, straight through the heart with my grandfather’s pistol. It limped off into the woods before it died, though. Never found the carcass. And when the sun finally began to rise, they just retreated, and everyone thought he had won. Everyone thought it was over.” There was another sniffle, louder this time._

_“Until Robin turned 18.”Another long pause. “When we woke up and he was gone, and Jamie was gone, even though he was only 16. And there were muddy tracks leading from their rooms to the back door.” Murmurs filled the room and spilled into Maggie’s ear. All those whispered apologies for something that had happened a lifetime ago. It made no sense to 11-year-old Maggie, but apparently that’s what grown-ups did. Apologize for something they had no control over. She hoped she was never like that._

_“We never found them. It tore Dad apart, knowing that him surviving meant the death of two of his sons. He thought he had broken the curse, when really he just…” A strange sound broke out, like someone gasping for air. “He only made it worse.” His voice was clogged and broken, tripping over the consonants. And Maggie realized that he was crying, and she thought that maybe, she understood now. He cried because there was nothing else he could do. And, she thought that that really wasn’t fair. And there wasn’t anything she could do about it._

**

“I did decide.” Maggie holds her head up high, but she doesn’t look her dad in the eyes. She stares at the top of the old wooden bookshelf behind him, made by her great-grandfather when he built the rest of the house. “I’m not going to fight.” And she leaves before she has to see her father start to cry, because there was nothing she would do to stop it. He couldn’t do anything to stop her.

She doesn’t come home until late. She sits in the forest, second-guessing the decision she made so many years ago, in her cold bed, an imprint of a keyhole on her right ear. Was she right to not fight? Would it be better to fight, and to win? Could she even do that, willingly sacrifice the lives of her future children? She didn’t think she could. But could she break her family’s heart? She never really had a choice; even 11-year-old Maggie had realized that. 

She wouldn’t lie to them and pretend to fight. 

She wouldn’t try to fight and win.

She would let herself be taken. It was the only way.

Liam finds her there in the clearing, like most days, lying on the ground with her face tilted up to the sky, occasionally sketching a bird or flower here and there. 

“Did you decide?” Maggie rolls her eyes. It seems like that was all people were asking her these days. 

“Yes. And it’s the same answer. I told you I wouldn’t change my mind.” It isn’t the right thing to say. 

“Why would you do this, Maggie?” Liam looks furious, beet red with anger, but Maggie only sighs. They had been arguing this point for nearly 7 years, and she was used to him getting angry. “Why would you want to just give up? It isn’t like you! It isn’t fair to me, to your mum or dad. You could at least _try_.” He’s nearly pleading with her, more desperate than she had ever seen him. Maggie sits up with a huff. 

“And do what? Lose? How is that better?” Liam begins to respond, but she cuts him off. “And what if I win? Are you suggesting I willingly kill off my future children?” She crosses her arms, leaning back against a nearby pine. “I could never do that.” Her voice is uncharacteristically sad, which is to be expected when discussing her imminent death, but it breaks Liam’s heart all the same. To hear her so hopelessly sad, like there was nothing in the world bright enough to melt away her melancholy, is too much. She’s the one who was supposed to be rock solid; she’s supposed to be the serious one. He’s the emotional one. He can’t bear to see the roles reversed. To see her like this…Liam knows she must be hurting an unbearable amount to let it leak out of her like this. 

So he drops it. He shuts his mouth and lays down next to her, watching the pines sway and the birds fly by. They all had someplace to go, a home to fly to. Liam’s heart aches. Maggie was the only one who could ever make him feel at home. And in three days, she’ll be gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know that was kinda dark but next chapter is a little bit more lighthearted and focused on Liam! it'll be up tomorrow, but in the meantime, feel free to talk to me @take-a-ch0nce-on-me on tumblr, or my main @theprincessamirah  
> until next time!


	3. All my favorite conversations, always made in the A.M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's liam time! The best time   
> but also this is kinda a bummer so maybe not the best time

She wakes up to the sound of rocks at her window. Which is confusing, because she knows she fell asleep to the twilight streaming through the trees in her and Liam’s clearing. It only takes a moment though, before she realizes that Liam probably carried her home, took off her shoes, and tucked her into bed. 

Slowly, her joints creaking and her head foggy from sleep, she makes her way over to her window, shoving her shoulder against it until it budges up. 

“Liam?” 

“Let me up.” His response floats up, a whisper in the dark. So she lets down the rope fire escape ladder her dad insisted she keep in her room, and moments later, Liam stands in front of her, the moonlight filtering through his hair and catching in his eyes. “I’m not going to let you die.” 

She’d like to say she’s surprised, but she’s not. Liam had always been the type for valiant, chivalrous gestures. 

“I’ll fight it, with or without you. But we’re not going down without a fight.” She waits. “Well?” He seems to expect something in response.

“Liam, what do you want me to say?” He begins to respond, but she cuts him off again. “ _Oh my brave knight, thank you for volunteering to save poor, defenseless me! I don’t have a brain or any opinions of my own.”_ She drops her voice. “I decided not to fight for a reason. It’s not going to do me any good, and it’s not going to my future any good. It’s better this way. Trust me. I’ve thought it all through.” 

“Thought it all through?” He’s angry now, pacing in front of her, hands clenched. “No. You obviously haven’t, because this isn’t just about you. Have you thought about what it’ll do to your mom?” Maggie’s head drops in shame. His voice picks up, louder and meaner and it’s clear he won’t calm down until he’s said all he needs to say. “Or your dad? Did you think about how it would _wreck_ him to see his only daughter willingly give up her life?” Maggie can feel her heart sinking, lower and lower, and Liam’s not showing any sign of slowing down. “Do you have any idea what it’ll do to him, knowing that you didn’t see the value of at least trying to stay alive for him?” His eyes are shining now, the moonlight bouncing off his unshed tears, moonbeams lighting the room. 

“And what about me, Maggie?” His voice is so broken, so rough and unsteady that Maggie just wants to smooth it down, to just fix this whole mess. “Did you think about me at all?” His head drops down, gaze fixated on the floor, on the uneven floorboard that Maggie hides little treasures and knickknacks under. She had never told anyone about it, but in this moment, she’s convinced that he somehow knows that under that board of warped wood she keeps owl feathers and a bone arrowhead she found in a hollowed out tree. And somehow, just maybe, he’s finally figured out all her secrets. She wouldn’t put it past him; he’s always known her better than she knew herself. Just like she’s always known he loved her, and that she’d always pushed it to the side because some things were too powerful to control, and that scared her. 

So she doesn’t respond to Liam. Her voice would be too scratchy to blame on sleep, and it would be embarrassing for him to see how much his affection overwhelms her. Slowly, her hand stretches across the space between them to slide into Liam’s, to give it a gentle squeeze, to let him know that yes, she did think about him. That he’s all she thinks about, and that the thought of leaving him hurts her more than him.

At least, she hopes that’s what he understands. 

(He does. 

At least, he thinks he does.)

When she wakes up in the morning, he’s gone. All that’s left to assure her that last night wasn’t a dream is an imprint of his body in her sheets and a note by her bedside table that reads, 

_We’re not going down without a fight. x_

It’s never been a secret that Liam loved Maggie. At least, it was never a secret to her. 

How could it be, when Liam looks at Maggie like she’s the moon? When she’s the only one who can read his moods, who can calm him with just a touch. How could he not love her, when her quiet but unconditional friendship was the only constant in his life? She wasn’t loud or even open with her thoughts, but he could understand her just the same. She’d look over at him and he’d know. _I’m here. With you, right now, is enough for me._

Liam had grown up with sisters that took what they wanted from the world. They saw what they wanted, and if they weren’t satisfied, they’d mold it to match their vision. But Maggie was never so forceful. She sat, and watched, and saw the world the way it was. The careful, considerate observer. And if she didn’t smile or laugh, that was okay. Because when she smiled at Liam? 

It was all he wanted.

~

_“But, did you hear what she did?” Amelia’s laugh could be heard from upstairs. It only made him move faster._

_Not wanting to waste another moment, he grabbed the duffel he kept under his bed with all his necessities, and moved quickly, silently, down the hall. He was just at the door, hand reaching for the knob, when a voice rang out._

_“Liam!” His heart dropped. So close. Maybe he could just pretend he didn’t hear—_

_“Liam! I know you heard me! Get in here.” Sighing, he lightly dropped his bag by the door and bounded up the stairs, appearing in the doorway of his sister’s room._

_“Yes?” His impatience leaked into his voice. His sister’s face tinted with annoyance._

_“Are you going out?” He nodded once, already stepping back, eager to make his escape. “Were you going to say goodbye?” He didn’t even respond, just huffed and rolled his eyes. “What did Dad say you have to do when you go out?” It took most of Liam’s strength not to just walk away._

_“That I have to check in with you first.” His father’s ridiculous rules were just that; ridiculous._

_"That’s right. Where are you going?” Liam resisted the urge to rub his temples._

_“Out.” A look from his sister prompted him to continue. “To the woods, okay?” He stepped further out of the room. “Can I go now?”_

_“Hold on Steph, I need to talk to my brother.” She snapped her cell phone shut. “Is she going to be there?” Liam’s stomach curled. Of course she couldn’t just let it go._

_“I don’t know. Probably.” Attitude was beginning to coat Liam’s words, and it didn’t go unnoticed by his sister._

_“Listen Liam, we’ve talked about this. You know what Dad and the rest of the family think of her.” He felt anger rising in him._

_“Why can’t you just accept her! She’s just a little strange! So what?She’s not some sort of social pariah, she’s not on drugs, and she’s not crazy. She’s lonely, okay?” Anger bubbled in his stomach. He was well aware of Maggie’s reputation._

_“Liam. You know it’s not safe around her. You know what happens to friends of the cursed.” Liam could barely breathe. There were rumors, of course, about her. That the curse didn’t always distinguish between family and friends. And if you weren’t careful, the curse would come for you, too. “I don’t care!” His sister seemed taken aback. “She’s worth it, okay?” Liam’s chest grew tighter, but the words found their way to his tongue. “If being with her means facing the wolves, it’s worth it.”_

_He walked away, down the stair and out the door. His sister didn’t call after him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is very upsetting how beautifully formatted everything is in my word doc and how ugly it looks once i copy/paste it into AO3  
> anyways  
> pls talk to me @take-a-ch0nce-on-me or @theprincessamirah it would make me happy


	4. Now my heart’s breaking, and I don’t know what to do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which we meet the requisite best friend, and do some reminiscing (which is really just a guilt trip disguised at stories from my childhood).  
> enjoy!

Maggie plans to spend her second-to-last day in the woods, alone, but that flies out the window when her doorbell rings softly at 8:30am, on the dot. Normally she’d already be out of the house and perched in a tree, watching the sunrise, but she dawdled today. There’s nothing like knowing you have two days of life left to kill your mood. 

So when she wrenches herself up from her bed and finally opens the door, she isn’t surprised to see Nan there, holding a tray of lemon squares. Oh, how Maggie loves those lemon squares. Nan holds them out to Maggie, and suddenly, she’s blinking back tears and the lemon squares clatter to the floor as Nan catches Maggie.

~

Maggie had known Nan for as long as she could remember. That’s the way things were in her town. Everyone knew everyone, and there were no secrets. Nan was always the only one who wasn’t afraid that her curse was catching (with the exception of Liam, of course). Maggie learned a long time ago; _nothing_ was sweeter than Nan, so she became the only one Maggie wasn’t afraid of opening up to. Nan would never judge her.

So Maggie sits on her bed, sniffling, while Nan sits rubbing her back. Maggie always hated displays of emotion; they seemed so vulnerable and unprotected. But that didn’t really matter to her anymore, seeing as she’d be vulnerable and unprotected in two days. _And dead,_ she can’t stop herself from adding.

“Maggie.” Nan’s voice seeps like honey through the quiet, which has never felt so oppressing. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay if you’re not okay.” Maggie stops for a moment, thinking about it. _Was she okay?_

“No,” she decides. “I’m not okay.” She avoids Nan’s eyes. The pity and sorrow in them would be too much. Maggie pictures her in her head, Nan’s butter yellow hair that softly curls around her shoulders, her sweet hazel eyes, her lightly freckled cheeks. They used to pretend that she was an angel when they were younger. 

“Want to talk about it?” Maggie’s automatically shaking her head, but Nan’s hand on her back is a reminder of her last chance to finally spill her secrets.

“Liam…” It’s suddenly too hard to squeeze any words through her throat. Maggie remembers now why she swore off emotional displays. They suck. “Liam…he, he told me he loved me.” She hears Nan’s quick gasp.

“What? When? What did you say?” Nan pulls Maggie up by her shoulders. The excited glee in her eyes reminds Maggie why she never initiated anything with Liam. She doesn’t have a future.

“Well...” Maggie realizes that maybe she was a bit too dramatic with her wording. “He didn’t tell me exactly,” Nan’s glee dies down considerably, “But I could tell, you know?” Nan nods sagely. She knows. 

“We were arguing, about tonight, and he just looked at me, all sad-like, and it made me feel…” Maggie stops, unsure. What _was_ the feeling from last night, the one that wrapped around her lungs like a heavy blanket? “I don’t know. It made me feel different. Bad.” Nan’s arms tighten around her in a hug. 

“Oh, Maggie.” Her voice is hushed, but she looks so happy, and so sad, and it’s just as achingly melancholic as it is confusing.

Maggie’s words rush out, like someone pulled the stopper out of a bottle. “It’s just that he’s my best friend, and I don’t think I’d like it if he left. I mean, I like my space but I don’t want to be alone, you know? He just gets how to be quiet. No offense, you’re the best, but he’s different. And after tomorrow I’m not going to be here and I don’t want him to be all alone I don’t think he could take it—“ 

“Maggie.” Nan’s so calm, calmer than Maggie had seen her in a while. They always had balanced each other out. Even though she’s crying, Maggie feels light, lighter than she had in years. She always thought crying was what happened when you let down your defenses, but it feels…liberating. She feels free; she can feel the hollowness in her chest fill with something, like she didn’t know she had been empty until the hole had been filled. It feels…good. “You don’t have to die.”

The feeling stops. The light dims. Of course Nan thought that. Maggie can feel the cork being placed back in the bottle, her feet falling back to Earth. _I was wrong_ , Maggie thinks. _I was wrong, and stupid, and foolish. I was so wrong, to think you’d understand._

“You can fight it, Maggie. You’re so strong, I know you can. I believe in you, I _know_ that you can beat it. There’s never been a Maggie before, right? How do you know you can’t win?” Nan seems so assured. How can she be so confident?

“You’re right.” The words come out easily, but the fake conviction doesn’t. Maggie forces the corners of her mouth into a pained smile. “I don’t have to die. I can live.” The smile comes easier this time, and she slowly stands up, rubbing at her red cheeks. Nan looks a bit startled, like she didn’t expect her pep talk to work this well. 

“I’m…glad you changed your mind?” It comes out like a question. Something isn’t right, Nan knows, but what, she can’t tell. Maggie’s rising from the bed, itching to be anywhere but here.

“Maggie?” She stops in the doorway, already half gone. “Are you alright?” Nan’s sweet face is twisted in worry, and it breaks Maggie’s heart. “Sure.” Maggie steps out of the room, her voice floating behind her, already halfway down the hallway. “I’m always alright.” 

It hurts a little, how easily the lie comes.

~

Maggie sits high in a leafy tree, watching the sunset. Her conversation with Nan plays over and over again in her head, and Maggie finds herself analyzing it. _Maybe if she’d just not brought it up,_ she thinks, _I wouldn’t have had to lie to her._ In her heart, Maggie knows Nan is right. She doesn’t have to die. She could live, and try to escape the curse. But to run away from the wolves, to try and defeat them, to know she would doom her children? That wouldn’t be living either. Sighing, she leans back against the tree trunk. 

_I’d like to be a tree,_ Maggie thinks. _I’d be strong, and sturdy, and live for hundreds of years. I’d be the home of squirrels and birds and chipmunks and we would all live happily._

“Maggie?” She looks down sharply, nearly falling out of the tree. Liam’s the only one who could ever sneak up on her, though he usually would step on a twig or brush against a branch to alert her of his presence. 

“Yes, Liam?” She half-sighs, already tired. _Emotions are tiring_. He’s sitting next to her in moments, his weight making the waist-thick branch sway lightly. 

“Listen, about last night…” Maggie recoils. Liam was never one to open a tough conversation before, and it takes her by surprise. “We should talk about it.”

“No.”Her voice shocks her a bit. It sounds so distant, so…cold.

“No?” Liam looks more confused than anything, and his lost puppy-dog expression would be adorable if Maggie didn’t know where this conversation was going. 

“We both know I’m not going to be here after tomorrow.” Maggie keeps her eyes glued to the last strip of light near the horizon, the oranges and pinks filtering through the trees. “There’s no point, Liam. We’re going nowhere.” The light was almost gone now; it was just a tiny sliver of light. “So forget about it, okay?” 

Liam turns, to tell her _no, not okay,_ but she’s already shimmying down the tree trunk. He calls after her, but she’s darting away, weaving through the trees until she’s disappeared under all the branches and green leaves. She leaves Liam there, alone in the dark trees, sun having finally gone to bed.

Her parents are quiet, and Maggie is too. Her mom makes mugs of tea, and they sit around the small kitchen table, the one with only three spots. The kitchen is bright and cozy, and with the warm mug in her hands, and it makes Maggie ache for a simpler time, when her future seemed to stretch out endlessly before her. Maggie asks her mom to tell her a story. 

“When you were six,” She starts, eyes already misty, “You used to pretend that you were a queen.” Maggie leans over her tea, letting the steam warm her face. She hasn’t heard this story before. “You would run into the forest, and make a crown out of thin branches, and all the birds and squirrels and chipmunks were your subjects.” Maggie’s mom’s eyes focus on her, saving the image of her daughter to her memory. “You would spend all day searching for them, and then try to talk to the raccoons as long as you could get them to stay.” Her mom smiles softly, remembering a small Maggie yelling after retreating woodland animals. “You were always so happy, to think that you were solving their problems, like a queen holding court over land disputes and rivalries.” In the darkness of the night, the kitchen light seems to glow brighter, keeping time and the wolves at bay. Here, it’s safe. Here, they have endless time. 

Maggie’s mom reaches to put a hand over Maggie’s. This, she decides, is how she’ll remember her. With her face flushed from the steam, her mouth cracked into a half smile, her hand warm. This, she thinks, is the image she’ll hold on to, after Maggie’s been taken. While everyone else would see blood and terror, she would see this soft, open Maggie, and she wouldn’t feel her daughter with her. Her hand tightened over Maggie’s, committing it to memory. She’ll never lose her, no matter what comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is no one gonna call me out for doing a songfic in 2020? go shame me @take-a-ch0nce-on-me or @theprincessamirah okay?


	5. I hear them calling for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment we've been waiting for! It's the fight scene! The longest chapter so far!  
> TW for a non-graphic description of an injury.

Maggie wakes up late again, having talked into the early morning with her parents. It takes her twenty minutes to come back from the brink of crying, because she can’t believe that she’s already seen her last sunrise. Swallowing regret, bitter and cold in her mouth, she quickly steals out of the house. She might have missed the sun coming up, but nothing would stop her from spending one last day in the forest. 

Her clearing, the one that used to be Maggie’s-and-Liam’s, is quiet, and somehow Liam’s absence is stifling. She’s almost angry at him, that him and his stupid feelings had ruined her last day in her sanctuary. She supposes he’s avoiding it, to avoid her. She tries not to think about how he won’t have that problem in less than sixteen hours. Then she tries not to count down the hours. It doesn’t work.

She spends the day not really doing anything, except climbing trees and enjoying views. Or at least, she tries to enjoy them. But in every moment of silence, a thought whispers in the back of her mind, reminding her of what’s to come. She’d like if after all this time, after knowing for years, she’d be a little less scared of the wolves. She’d like to not be scared at all, to be able to face them with dignity and stand tall when they come. It would be comforting to know that even though she was going to die, she’d have accepted it and be ready for it. How was it that when she found out, all those years ago, she’d thought she had so much time? That eighteen was so far away? It all passed in a blink of an eye, the beat of a heart, and if she thinks about it too long, she feels dizzy from how quickly time had passed. 

Somehow, sitting up on the highest bough on her favorite evergreen, she feels so small. Maybe this tree would remember her, with her initials carved carefully into it, and maybe Nan would remember her, as a lover of lemon baked goods. And Liam…she thinks Liam will remember her, although she hopes he doesn’t remember her too long. She knows it would make him too sad. But the rest of the world… to the rest of the world, she was no one. There and gone in a blink of an eye, barely long enough to leave an impression.

The rest of the day passes like this, and at the end of it Maggie finds herself thoroughly unsatisfied. Like she deserved a better last day, and if only she had one more, she knows she could make it better…but it doesn’t matter. She knows it doesn’t, but her heart still feels slighted. 

Nan comes by to visit her again, just after dinner. She always did have such a good sense of timing. They sit together as the sun goes down, leaning against one another for support. Like trees rotten to the core, taken down by the small insects they were home to. After a while, her parents join them, and Maggie quite likes how they feel all together, one large supercontinent, the sort of thing you think will never break apart until it does. 

Maggie’s dad gets up for a moment, and she feels the loss of warmth immediately. He returns a while later, carrying a small canvas pouch, tied simply with a drawstring. She knows what’s in it, of course, she’d seen it on his desk her entire life, a constant paperweight keeping her grounded. A constant reminder. From it he slides a knife, with a smooth wooden hilt and a five inch blade. It’s been polished recently, she can tell, but she can also see the craftsmanship in it, the care that showed quite obviously. 

She knows her dad is showing her the knife to tell her that he loves her, that he and everyone who loves her was behind her, but it doesn’t make her feel that. 

It conjures anger. The sight of the knife that her grandfather carefully carved, almost lovingly polished, is just a sign of everything that was taken away from her and her family by the wolves. She can feel it, the anger, bubbling up in her stomach, flames licking up her throat to lap at the back of her mouth. 

And all she can think is _How dare they._

The handle fits snugly in her hand, comfortably, and Maggie gets the weird feeling that it’s resting. Waiting. And suddenly, the words she had been struggling with for eight years became so clear in her head, like a work of art she had walked by everyday until someone pointed it out to her. 

“It’s not fair.” Her mom seems fairly taken aback; she thought Maggie realized that years ago. “And it’s not right.” Her father has the same slightly stunned look on his face; of course it wasn’t right. “And I’m not going to pay for it with my life.” Nan wasn’t surprised at all. She knew Maggie would never go willingly. There was too much fire in her to just lay down and die.

Maggie’s frantically pacing, mind racing. She hadn’t trained for this. She knows she isn’t ready. She knows survival was unlikely. And yet, she doesn’t stop, turning idea after idea over in her mind, searching for something, anything that could help her win. 

Her father’s hand on her shoulder stops her eventually, warm and solid when her entire world feels like it’s done a one-eighty. 

“You won’t face them alone.” Maggie’s dad has lines in his face, but his hands are rough with callused skin and his arms are wiry from years of chopping firewood and around-the-house jobs. He’s holding his hunting knife. “I’ll be right next to you.” And Maggie feels like her blood is running warmer in her veins. 

**

At 10:47, Liam arrives.

Maggie lies when she tells him she doesn’t want to see him.

He waits on her porch until 10:56, leaning back against the house in a way that Maggie recognizes as anxious. She pretends not to watch him through the curtain, and her stomach definitely doesn’t drop when he finally leaves.

Together, they wait in the kitchen for midnight to strike. It’s the moment that seemed like it would never come until it does, the inevitable truth that feels like a lie. And they’re all strangely surprised when the clock finally ticks into the next day.

Maggie waits outside with her dad, in the front yard that’s not even a yard, just a clearing in a forest. The trees that used to be her playground are suddenly dark depths that hide her darkest fears. And only two minutes after midnight, the wolves materialize from the shadows, slowly stalking towards the pair. 

Nan and her mom watch from the kitchen window, mugs clutched tightly under white fingers. The kind that squeeze tighter to hide the shaking.

There are three wolves total, grey mottled coats that seem to glow silver in the moonlight.

Maggie and her dad press their backs against each other, drawing comfort from the contact while the wolves slowly circle them. It’s not long before they strike. 

One charges at Maggie, lips curled, lethally beautiful, muscles rippling. With a wide-flung arm, Maggie uses the flat of the knife to smack the wolf to the side. Somehow, it works, and they both end up rolling on the grassy earth. It doesn’t take long for the wolf to spring to its feet. Maggie stays down.

Its snout is only feet away, and Maggie can taste its sour, musty breath. The wolf snarls, stalking closer. She tries to reach for her grandfather’s knife, but she’d dropped it in the struggle, and it lays behind the wolf, just out of reach. The wolf is so close now, one more step and it’ll all be over— . 

And suddenly Maggie’s and the wolf’s attention are fixed on someone. More specifically, a small, angel-faced someone who’d just hurled a lemon square at the wolf, where it had splattered spectacularly across its face. 

Maggie can’t suppress her grin as she scrambles for her knife. _Oh Nan, you wonderful girl_. The distraction is just enough. Maggie flips over as the wolf finally clears its eyes of the lemony treat, pouncing straight onto Maggie, and her knife.

Maggie’s eyes are squeezed shut as the knife drives itself up, up under the ribs of the monstrous creature until everything’s wet and sticky and _warm_ and oh god, it’s dead, she’s killed it. 

She tries to catch her breath, but she finds it’s a hard thing to do when there’s a one-hundred-forty pound carcass on her chest. Weakly, she attempts to push it off, but her hands are shaking from the adrenaline, and she has to stop and focus on her breathing when she sees the blood on them, there’s blood everywhere—.

And abruptly she can breathe, and when she looks up she sees Liam standing above her, and the absolute fierceness in his face makes her want to cry. There are tears in his eyes as he reaches down to her, pulling her up, pulling her into a hug. 

“Don’t,” he whispers, eyes locked on hers, “Do that _ever_ again.” Maggie feels like someone just dropped ten wolves on top of her chest.

“Do what?” She manages to squeeze out, trying to catch her breath. “Fight a wolf?” His eyes are soft and brown and so deep she feels she’s drowning in them. “Because I’m about to do it again.” And she’s running across the clearing to her dad.

The other two wolves are circling him, and there’re rust stains on his back that make Maggie’s stomach roil. 

Screaming with frustration, she leaps up onto one of the wolves’ back, reaching forward to slash her knife across its face. Maggie manages to get a glancing blow before it can shake her off, and the wolf whines in pain, blood smeared into its matted fur. Turning to face her, the wolf snarls lowly. She matches its gaze. There’s such a fierceness in her eyes, a feral protectiveness, that she must be part wolf herself. 

The wolf stalks forward. So does Maggie. It bares its fangs. Maggie growls back. The beast charges, blazing past Maggie as she quickly sidesteps, slashing her knife at the beast’s side, where it bounces off of a rib. Again they circle each other, more blood soaking into the hide of the wolf from the long, shallow slash in its flank. 

Maggie senses something behind her, then from her right, and with a thin whistle of air a knife embeds itself into the wolf’s eye with a thud. The body falls to the ground with a dull thud. 

Dead. 

To her right, Liam stands, chest heaving under his blood and sweat splotched shirt. They stand there for what felt like hours, eyes connecting in a way that makes Maggie feel like he’s peeled back her skin and can see all her thoughts firing around in her head. It isn’t until her dad cries out in pain that she snaps back to reality. Beside her, Liam seems to do the same.

“Dad!” And suddenly Maggie’s in front on him, slashing wildly at the final wolf until Liam joins her, and together they quickly drive the wolf back. With a wild scream, Maggie drives her knife into the last wolf’s shoulder, and Liam quickly follows with asharp thrust of his knife into it’s belly. In moments, it was lifeless at their feet. But Maggie doesn’t spare it a moment, kneeling at her father’s side. “Daddy,” She chokes out, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

“It’s nothing, petal,” His face is grey, but she can feel his breaths coming evenly. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. “Don’t worry about me.” And Maggie finally lets the tears out into her father’s shoulder. 

**

Later, after the ambulance had come for her father, and the bodies of the wolves, the monsters, had been dragged away, Maggie sits on the porch steps, her mom on one side, Nan on the other. She feels like a book between two books ends, propped up. Liam approaches them, slowly, and as the two women next to Maggie notice him, they stand up silently. Nan squeezes Maggie’s shoulder and offers her a wink as she walks away. Maggie tries not to blush. Instead, she locks eyes with him, cheeks lightly flushed.

He kneels beside her, breathless and bloodstained. “I told you I wouldn’t go down without a fight.” He’s not exactly smirking, but there’s a quiet triumphant confidence around him that no one could doubt. She’s breathless too, shocked into silence. In the heat of it all, she’d forgotten what they’d accomplished. They had done what no one else could do, not even after generations and generations of suffering. The curse was broken. Shakily, her hand reaches out to him, pulling him up onto the step beside her.

“Liam…” She stops, the look in his eyes silencing her. It’s so intense, his brown eyes so full of fire and heat. 

“What?” He shrugs modestly, and she can’t even breathe, he looks so perfect. 

“You know…” Maggie swallows. These words don’t come easy. “You know I didn’t mean it, right?” She knows her words fall short, but she hopes he understands the look in her eyes. And of course he does. He knows exactly what kind of girl Maggie is, which is, of course, the kind that let their actions speak over their words. So in a moment of daring, he does the same. Rushing forward, he presses his lips to Maggie’s cheek, a little too high up and a little too hard, before falling back into his spot on the porch, eyes fixed firmly on his clasped hands.

He pauses. Then looks up. Maggie’s flushed as red as the berries they used to collect in the spring. His cheeks match. “I know exactly what you meant.” He manages to cough out. She grins.

“Just come here already.” And he sinks into her arms.

And together, they watch the sunrise over the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus concludes the last full chapter! Keep you eyes peeled for the epilogue coming tomorrow.  
> If you've actually read this far, thank you.  
> As always, chat with me at @take-a-ch0nce-on-me or @theprincessamirah on tumblr.


End file.
